Sunsets
by flutesrtooty
Summary: They have been fighting this war for all of their lives...... Tensions are high and it feels dangerous to look out the window after nightfall. The only time these two star crossed lovers can see each other is on a quidditch pitch as the sun sets.
1. Chapter 1

The sunset exploded over the quidditch pitch in brilliant hues of orange and pink, casting long, dark shadows. What would be a normally bustling stadium (it was a Saturday night, after all, and what would have been the last weekend of summer holidays) was a vast expanse of silence. The silhouette of a lean, tall man wearing Muggle clothing---a collared shirt and casual slacks, no robe--- was the only suggestion of sustained human life on the pitch, as he leaned against a hoop. The silhouette gave the illusion that he was patiently waiting for something; his hands were casually crossed over his chest and his left foot propped itself against the giant pole.

It was curious that this man was standing in the middle of the pitch, his back facing the radiant sunset. He was surrounded by unkempt grass and the stands had not been sustained--- they were rusting and still littered with programs from a match nearly three months ago. The man knew this not only because he had already leafed through the program several times that evening, but he had been to the aforementioned match. It had been a marvelous show of sportsmanship, especially for Puddlemere, who'd not only caught the snitch, but also turned the score around after losing a devastating 160 points.

His mental recap of the match was interrupted when he looked up and saw what he had been waiting for. A disheveled young witch walked quickly onto the pitch, her royal blue robes singed on the bottom. There were spell burns all over her, and her auburn locks flew freely from the clip that had previously held them back. Her eyes held years of sadness and fatigue in them, years of wisdom and loss that she didn't deserve. And still, she was so beautiful.

"It was you that caught the snitch, no?" He approached her, motioning to the program that he pulled from his pocket.

She traced the program cover with a blackened index finger, musing over the match that seemed as though it was ages ago. She regarded his question as rhetorical; she knew he had been there--- her heart had raised into her throat when she saw his face among the crowded stands on the sunny afternoon. This had been the last of better times--- full stands at quidditch stadiums instead of an empty barren pitch. There had been a full year of peace after the battle at Hogsmeade, a week after her NEWTS exams seventh year. Most of the magic community had returned to normal life, believing that Death Eaters and Voldemort were something they would only mention when telling children stories of their past. She had known it was too good to be true, but she took advantage of the quiet and accepted an offer from Puddlemere United. It had been amazing: she had a nearly normal life again, with no summer being locked up in 12 Grimmauld Place. She'd reveled in that rush of adrenaline, the natural high she got when she caught the golden snitch that seemed to have a mind of its own. The after party had barely been underway—George and Fred were on their way with crates of butterbeer and firewhisky when Harry apparated into the Burrow (only the best place for a team party) and told them it was Hogwarts this time. She had slipped into the crowd and apparated to his place, warning him of the danger, and quickly popped over to Hogwarts before she was missed.

That had been the true beginning of the war. Or perhaps it had been the turning point. Hadn't they been fighting this war all of their lives?

"They have your mother." She whispered, disregarding his comment meant to lighten the mood. Tears glistened in her brown eyes as she waited for a response. "He surrendered her instead of himself. He got away."

The silent air around them rang in her ears. There should have been a loud commotion from their stance on the pitch, but there was only a vast emptiness. "They have her." She repeated in a deadpan tone, as though perhaps saying it again would give the words more meaning.

"I know that already." He said, looking up at the sky, at the grass, into the stands—anywhere but in her overcast brown eyes. "Snape sent Zambini on the recovery task this morning."

There was more silence.

It was so beautiful compared to the loud ugly battles of the war, or the screams heard from medical tents, or the cacophonous noises of mealtime, break time, and every other time of the day with the Order.

"Then why have you come?" She asked, lightly, and not too pressing. Such matters were no longer burning matters. In a time where the death of a school friend was normal breakfast talk, everything was unstructured. As contradictory as it sounded, there didn't have to be a specific reason for him to have requested her presence, despite the danger it entailed. Just being out in the open, on grounds where there were no cloaking spells or protective charms, was asking for a hex. But it all seemed worth it just to see each other, still alive: breathing, blinking, walking and talking, soaking up the other's presence.

A smile graced the face of the young man aged too soon. His pale complexion bore lines men twice his age worried about, and his grey eyes held wisdom and responsibility rather than the mirth and ennui a normal twenty year old might carry. He turned his back to her, looking up at the dusk sky. "Do you remember that evening, Gin?"

She was silent. They had gone over that day more times than she could count; there was no need for her to answer.

"There was no sunset. At the time, I had thought it was a good thing; the clouds blocked enough of the sunlight that I could still see you circling high above the stadium. You have a certain grace about you on that broom of yours, and I wanted that view all to myself. If only we had a sunset that night, Ginny. We could have appreciated it, enjoyed it without dreading what would happen once night fell."

That's what happened now. They all dreaded sundown: once the sun was set, bad things were liable to happen. Most of the fighting, most of the murders and reconnaissance missions were carried out at night. When the sun rose in the morning, each respective side would return to their beds and sleep, or perhaps prepare for the next bloodshed.

"How can I believe that something so exquisite can exist, when I've seen so many horrors the world has for us?" There were tears in his eyes this time, when he turned to her. He swept her up into his arms and kissed her passionately. She was tall, but his towering structure put him a good five or so inches over her, and so she had to stretch to reach his height, putting her hands around his neck. His kisses were short and rough, desperate and pleading for comfort, and she did her best to hold him and give him what he needed. There was a moment when she could not differentiate whether the tears on her cheek were hers or his. He pulled away from her mouth, trailing kisses up her cheek bone to her forehead, where he came to rest.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, which was beautifully sculpted, but too thin for a wizard of his age. It was apparent that, like her, he often got so caught up in his worries that he forgot about eating, but never neglected his conditioning.

"We have beautiful sunsets to remind us of what there is waiting for us at the end of this war, Draco."


	2. Chapter 2

The setting sun cast shadows across the quidditch pitch, nearly hiding the man who was once again leaning against the goal hoop. This time he was visibly anxious, his long black cloak billowing outwards, never resting because he was constantly shifting his weight. His eyes shifted from the sky to the darkened stands, searching for any signs of her approach. There was little change in the stadium since his last visit; nearly a week had passed. The stands were still littered; the grass was growing longer and longer.

The dusk held a picturesque scene, this time with bright yellow and orange hues reflecting off of the clouds that were scattered across the horizon. He paused for a moment, mulling over what she had told him the last time they met. It was difficult for Draco Malfoy to believe that sunsets should remind him of the beauty that this world was still capable of. He had seen enough horror to last him a lifetime in nightmares, and supposed that natural beauty was a cruel, ironic trick meant to deceive him into believing that good could overcome evil. Ginevra Weasley was raised in a different household than he was; it was natural for her to have perpetual faith in righteousness. However much doubt he held to Ginny's statement, he liked to believe that someday, she could be proven right.

He started pacing.

He had just began to wonder if perhaps the owl he received had been some sort of trap, or if maybe he had fabricated the entire event within his memory for want of seeing her again, when he saw her figure emerge from the locker rooms. She was still wearing her mediwizard robes—she sometimes interned during the dayshift at St. Mungo's—and her russet curls were beyond manageable, barely held up into a ponytail at the base of her neck. But if Draco were to believe in any kind of natural beauty, it would be her. All of his anxiety was forgotten watching her walk towards him, her face carrying good news for once, instead of grave updates. A wave of desire swept over him, and he pulled her into a kiss as she approached. She pulled away, cheeks flushed and her lips curled into a smile.

"Blaise retrieved her from Death Eater's quarters yesterday afternoon, and they don't even suspect a thing." She told him breathily, squeezing his hand with pleasure. "She was brought to me this morning, and she seems well, for somebody who was living in a dungeon for not quite a week. Some injuries of course, but nothing a few days worth of potions won't fix. Your mother is a strong woman, Draco."

He could have collapsed with relief. He had worried so much about his mother, especially with his uncertain position within Voldemort's circle. He never had to worry about his own life; his intelligence was far too valuable, and the Dark Lord favored him in some strange way that he would never understand. But his mother had been another situation entirely. Now that his father was a wanted man by both the Death Eaters and the Order, Draco knew that Narcissa Malfoy was dispensable, despite her pureblooded virtues and her outward loyalty to her husband and his beliefs. It appeared now that her captors had just been holding Narcissa in custody until they figured out what to do with their unexpected prisoner. Draco pulled Ginny into his arms, holding her against him, yearning to feel her body pressed against his own. He kissed the top of her head as they embraced, thanking God aloud.

"She's been asking for you."

He paused, pulling back to study her face. She looked him square in the eyes, searching for some submission of emotion. "I didn't say a single thing to her, but she's most definitely under the impression that I know exactly where her son is. Draco, she's suffering from after effects of the Cruciatus, so she's not quite lucid, but she's so convinced that I am a link to you. I don't know what to tell her, but we can't have her talking about you around the ward. If other patients or mediwizards hear her talking, they could blow your cover entirely."

He shook his head. "Some of her memory must have been erased. She knows I'm a double agent with Snape—she was the one who initiated the process, but she must not realize that it's imperative to keep it a secret. Next time you see her, make sure to tell her to keep everything quiet and that I'm trying to find a way to see her…we are trying to find a way for me to see her, right?" He looked up at Ginny, his face showing more hope than she had seen in a long time.

Ginny reached on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. "Of course we are, darling. I'm working on getting permission for a night visit from Wizard Carter, and then Remus is going to assist me with finding some sort of disguise for you. You'll need to be able to take it off when you reach your mother's room, because a visit from a stranger that claims to be her son will confuse her more than anything right now."

Draco nodded submissively. "And you'll let me know as soon as that's possible?" He asked, stroking her face.

She relished the feeling of Draco's hand on her face, leaning into it and closing her eyes. "Of course I will, darling." She murmured. He used his hand to cup her face upwards and kiss all along her jaw line, slowly moving towards her lips. His arms made an unconscious journey to the base of her hips, and she rested her hands on his shoulders.

Her eyes closed, she anticipated him kissing her lips, and when there was no contact, her eyes fluttered open.

"Is there any other news?" He asked lowly, his lips mere centimeters from hers.

She grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Nothing that can't wait."

The sunset had dissolved into a mere purple glow along the horizon when the young lovers finally collapsed beside each other on the grass, sated and breathing heavily. They were aware of the dangers of extending the length of their visit far past the usual, and they could care less. It had been a long time since they had stayed until nightfall and Ginny had forgotten how dark it was on the pitch, away from the lights of a city or neighborhood. She lay on her stomach, her arm draped on Draco's back, and she played thoughtfully with the little piece of hair that almost curled at the base of his neck.

"Do you remember that night we went to the muggle café in Nice? It took us so long to get all of the Floo transfers approved, and we had the layover in Bourges. When we got to the restaurant, it was dark out. You were upset because you had requested the table that overlooked the sunset. But I was still so happy, because when we were finished with the dinner, we lay on the beach and watched the stars."

Draco chuckled. "The tide came in and before we knew it, there were waves crashing on our feet."

She hummed with content at the memory. "If I had to choose a perfect night, it would be that one. Our biggest worry, for only a few hours at least, was a delay in the layover at Bourges. There was a beautiful sunset that evening: all sorts of dark reds and purples, and the view from the wizards portal at the muggle aeroport was spectacular. Even you couldn't be cross for long. And the stars from that beach! It was like being in Astronomy again, walking up that big tower and star-gazing when you knew everyone else was sleeping." She paused, hesitant to speak her next thoughts aloud. "When I die, I want some of my ashes spread there."

"That's awfully morbid." Draco chided her, though he didn't even raise his head to make eye contact. After a moment, he asked, "The Astronomy Tower, or Nice?"

"Either. Or both. Or wherever you want. I've decided that I want everybody who cares for me to take a small bit of me, and put me wherever they see fit. That way, I can be in all the places I loved."

"Well I highly doubt anyone will allow me a piece of you. They all hate me." He grumbled at her, the lowness of his voice reverberating through his chest and in her ears. After all, not a single soul knew of their affair. To the Order, Ginny and Draco were correspondents in the way that Harry and Blaise were. They hadn't the slightest idea that the pair were exchanging more than just tactical information. He rolled over onto his back and let Ginny rest her head on his abdomen. Her messy red locks were no longer tied back, and he combed his fingers through them possessively.

"They found Tonks' body today."

She always waited until there was a lull in the conversation, and then blurted it out, like ripping off a bandage. He was expecting bad news, but this piece of information hit the twenty year old like a brick. Ginny couldn't help but take notice of how his entire body tensed up under her. "Lupin?" He inquired, wondering who had found his cousin, whose body disappeared when the Aurors were attacked while recovering their fallen comrades after a battle.

"No," she answered. "The twins. They were looking for George's wand; he lost it in the fight, and Mum didn't want them going back until today. They were pretty shaken up."

He grunted. "Who wouldn't be? She was fearless in the face of danger. I couldn't imagine a Tonks that wasn't full of life." He could recall the few memories he had of her that weren't tainted by his father's belief that she was a mutt, a disgrace to the Black family line. Every time he had been around her, she was just bursting with an energy and a happiness that he couldn't imagine any other member of his family possessing. "I just wish I would have been able to know her better." He said as an afterthought. "Just when I found a relative with reasonable morals."

"Love, she knew that your heart was in the right place. Now we must make sure we're there for Remus. He's a single father now. Poor child won't even know her mother." She clicked her tongue in disapproval.

"Do you understand me now when I tell you there's injustice in this world?" Draco asked her, propping his torso up with is elbows, impassioned by his argument. She sat up to look him in the eyes, wrapping her cloak around her bare upper body. Her brown eyes looked down in resignation, and she sighed, knowing what came next. "How can you remain optimistic when the mother of an innocent baby is killed in a battle over heritage?" His light-colored brow was furrowed, and his grey eyes were stormy and dark with passion, begging and pleading with Ginny to give him some reason to believe there was some good left in the world.

She silently gathered her garments, which lay scattered on the pitch, and dressed herself, motioning to Draco that he should do the same, instead of watching her from his position on the ground. They dressed without speaking, and when the two stood face to face in the same position they had stood no more than an hour ago, she spoke. "Tonks was the perfect example of how someone can effect the world in a positive way. She spent her adult life fighting for the safety of the Wizarding World, protecting you and I from the Dark Wizards who seek to hurt us. She walked onto that battle scene last week the same way she walked onto every other battle scene before it, knowing that she was risking her life, but it was for a good cause. She knew that if she died, it would be because she was fighting for a better future for herself, her loved ones, and most of all, her child." Ginny paused, and looked straight into Draco's eyes. "We can be certain of only a few things. When the sun sets every evening with you by my side, I can be certain that tomorrow morning, the sun will rise again. There is no certainty that tomorrow will be better, or that you will remain at my side, but there is always that sliver of hope. That is how I can remain optimistic."

Draco pulled her small frame into a fierce embrace, burying his face into her messy hair. He wished he could have the same hope as she did, but for now, he could only ask for her to hold enough hope in her heart for the both of them, because all he wanted was for them to stand together and watch the sun rise with the promise of a bright day.

It was late when they apparated in their separate ways that night. The blue glow that usually lit the sky after a sunset had faded, and there were only the stars and a waxing moon to light their paths. The two embraced one final time, warned the other to be careful, and turned in opposite directions, knowing if they turned back around, they would be tempted to stay. The dark night sky told them they had already overstayed their welcome, and the fear that came with darkness was already setting in.


End file.
